


I'll Stay With You Till You Wake

by Sammybunny711



Category: The Rifter - Ginn Hale
Genre: Canon Era, Canon Gay Character, Canon Related, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Sad, Unrequited Love, put rating as mature just in case, though not explicit content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 07:10:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14159502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammybunny711/pseuds/Sammybunny711
Summary: Saimura and Ji finally locate John in the ruins of the Payshmura strongholds. What follows is a long journey to waking John from his self-imposed sleep. Can Saimura control the lingering feelings he has for John and set aside his own desires in order to do what's best for the Rifter? Or will he succumb to the impulses he's buried for so long?





	I'll Stay With You Till You Wake

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to the lovely [Florianschild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/florianschild/pseuds/florianschild) for being the best beta reader on the planet. I couldn't have completed this without your extremely spot-on input. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who makes this Rifter fandom so special! 
> 
> I've always loved Saimura's character and wondered why he and John didn't get together after Ravishan's death. This is my own head-canon for explaining that. I hope you enjoy!

“He's here, Saimura!” Ji’s voice cut through the swirling vortex of wind and fine sand that battered his body from all sides. 

Saimura covered his eyes with his arm and followed the direction of her call, praying they'd made it to Jahn in time. Ji’s scruffy, thin body stood over a slumped figure mostly buried in the floor of the ruins and he picked up his pace. When he came up beside her, she was already pulling at the ravaged, bloodied clothing covered by the course sand and rubble. Jahn’s head was revealed, his wild blonde hair littered with debris. Saimura stared at him for a moment, his heart beating out of his chest.

_ Was he dead?  _

“Help me,” Ji growled through the fabric in her mouth. 

Saimura knelt down and gripped Jahn underneath the armpits, straining to lift him farther out of the epicenter of the destruction all around them. Jahn was limp in his arms and far too light. 

“I've got him,” Saimura told Ji, pulling him the rest of the way out and laying his body gently on the cracked and broken pavers a few feet away. 

He wasted no time in pressing an ear to Jahn’s chest, hoping for any hint of a heartbeat. 

“Don't do this, Jahn,” Saimura pleaded, desperation seeping into the edges of his voice. 

Ji trailed around Jahn’s head, back and forth, back and forth, panting. Saimura ignored her anxious path and rested a hand just above Jahn’s nose and mouth, waiting for a sign of air. When there was none, Saimura cursed and fisted his hand in Jahn’s bloodstained tunic, lifting him off the ground and into his arms. 

“Come on, Jahn.” 

The unresponsive body was too easy to lift into Saimura’s embrace. Emaciated. He refused to believe it. The flesh was still warm and Saimura would be damned if he gave up now. He held Jahn close to his chest with one arm while he shoved the opposite hand into his trouser pocket for a carved bone. It was an energy spell, like the one he'd given Jahn ages ago.Saimura pried Jahn’s lips apart and forced the small finger bone inside. He tilted Jahn slightly so he wouldn’t choke and put a hand over the mouth so the bone wouldn't fall back out. 

“Just… _ breathe Jahn… _ please…”

Ji stopped pacing. 

Saimura waited. Minutes ticked past and the whirlwind bit into his exposed skin. He curled over Jahn’s body to protect him from the slashing particles. Though he didn’t believe in the supposedly benevolent incarnation, he prayed to Parfir for help. He prayed to any god who would listen. 

“Let him come back,” he whispered.

“Son…”

Saimura didn't look up at Ji. “No.”

She gently nudged his arm with her head. “He's not dead. The Rifter cannot die so easily. We need to get him someplace warm and away from all this,” Ji said. 

Saimura could find no signs of life in Jahn aside from the warmth of his skin, but he believed Ji. He nodded and stood, barely gritting his teeth with the effort of lifting Jahn’s wasted body. Jahn’s head rolled to the side and the bone fell out of his mouth. Ji picked it up in her jaws and trailed ahead of Saimura.

As soon as they passed beneath an archway it was as though a hush fell over the ruined landscape. The whirlwind simply stopped, and all around the air grew deathly silent. Saimura shuddered at the icy sensation trickling down his back. He wanted to get as far away from this place as possible  _ as soon _ as possible. Ji picked her way through fallen gold walls and staircases, coiling apple trees, and black entryways. All around them, the battered remains of the Black Tower, Umbra’ibaye, and Rathal’pesha mingled together. Somehow, this island had become the last resting place of the Payshmura faith. Jahn had done it. It made no sense, but somehow the Rifter had bent and broken the three strongholds of the church to his will. 

It was more than Saimura had been able to do when he’d learned of Jahn’s disappearance and probable death. If he could, would he have torn apart the very earth beneath them to try and save Jahn, as Jahn had tried to save Ravishan? He clamped his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. Jahn was still alive even if the ushiri wasn't. Ji would be able to revive him. Saimura trusted in that. It was that thought that kept him going as they made their way slowly to the boat at the edge of the island and the great chasm that Jahn’s explosion of power had created.

Saimura mourned how easy it was to maneuver Jahn into the belly of the small skiff. It should have been impossible. Jahn’s masterful, muscular body was wraith-like now. He hardly weighed anything. Ji jumped into the boat and curled her body around Jahn’s head. Saimura climbed in after her. As he rowed them away from the misty banks, he couldn't help but wish in the deepest parts of his soul that Jahn would never return to this place. That Jahn would leave Ravishan’s bones to crumble into dust beneath the weight of the ruins. But somehow he knew that Jahn would come back and Saimura wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop him. 

 

***

 

Saimura carefully cradled Jahn’s head and poured the ewer of water over his soapy hair, watching white foam travel from the crown all the way down the length. It had taken several washes with a comb to get all the bits of rubble and sand out and the water running clear. He reached for the second pitcher and poured it out as well, finally satisfied that Jahn’s hair was clean enough. Gently, he rested the base of Jahn’s skull against the towel he’d folded up over the side of the tub. Saimura took a fresh cloth and reverently bathed months of grime and dried blood from the atrophied body before him. 

He took his time, soaping the cloth into a lather and lingering over Jahn’s once-tanned body. The flesh was too pale and pale blue veins peeked from beneath nearly translucent skin. Saimura lifted each limb so that he could thoroughly worship every bit of him. He couldn’t help the flush that crept into his cheeks when he cleaned Jahn’s most intimate places, and the impulse to avoid those sections entirely was there. Saimura knew he was being ridiculous and pushed through his embarrassment. When he wrung out the cloth, the water fell away murky brown. He reached for another bucket of clean water and began to rinse away the lather and residual filth from Jahn’s skin.

Finally, Jahn looked a bit like himself again. Gaunt, and thin, but more like a human being than a corpse. Ji had told them forever ago that Jahn was the Rifter--a god encased in human flesh. And yet, when Saimura looked at him, all he saw was a deeply broken, beautiful man. He still found it hard to believe what Jahn was--even after Saimura had pulled dozens of bullets from his skin and seen the devastation he’d wrought on his way to Vundomu. The utter annihilation he’d rained down when he’d gone to Umbra’ibaye in search of Ravishan for the last time had nearly torn the world apart.

Bending down, Saimura slipped his arms beneath Jahn’s back and knees and lifted him up in one smooth motion. The bed was only a few feet away and Saimura used all his agility to make sure that Jahn wasn’t jostled or dropped too quickly into the clean sheets and pillows. He pulled cool covers over damp, naked skin and strode to make up the fire in the hearth to further warm the room. A soft knock at the door startled him. 

“Who is it?” Saimura asked through the wood.

“Wah’roa.” The kahlirash commander had gone in search of clean clothing for both of them, though given Jahn’s stature, it was anyone’s guess if the items would fit.

Saimura let him in, stepping back from the door. Wah’roa strode inside, a bundle in his arms. The kahlirash had already seen Jahn once today, when Saimura had carried him on his back up through the terraces of Vundomu all the way to the Temple of the Rifter. There’d been confusion and anger in those dark eyes then. Now, when Wah’roa beheld the unconscious form in the bed, his expression eased into sadness.

“He looks like he’s sleeping,” the commander said, voice gruff.

Saimura followed the man’s gaze. “Maybe he is.”

“Please let me know when he wakes.”

“I will. Thank you for the clothes.”

Wah’roa nodded and left without another word. 

Saimura kept the door open long enough to let one of the kahlirash’im know that he needed more bathwater. Within a half hour, the metal tub and buckets had been refilled and new istana soap and fresh towels brought. The young warriors left, closing the door behind them. Saimura took one of the chairs by the wall and sat it next to the bedside. When he sat down, he felt sure he’d never stand up again. Aches and pains in his back and shoulders flared to life. After rowing that skiff across rocky waters, and then carrying Jahn on his back for much of their journey back to Vundomu when a cart couldn’t be secured, Saimura was tired.  _ Really  _ tired.

Ji had taken them the fastest route back from the north, but it had still taken weeks to reach the new Fai’daum stronghold. They had only stopped to sleep and eat, picking up again immediately. Upon arriving in Vundomu, Ji had left, entrusting Jahn to Saimura. He didn’t know where she was now. They were alone for the foreseeable future. Saimura glanced to the steaming water in the tub. He was positive he smelled awful, but the task of getting out of the chair and into the bath seemed insurmountable.

Still, he refused to sleep until he was clean. Standing up was the hardest thing he’d done all day and once he’d slipped into the too-warm water in the tub, a moan escaped his lips. He dunked his head under the water until his hair was soaked. A sudden wave of weariness overtook him and he rushed through the bath, sure that if he slowed down he’d fall asleep right in the bathwater. After he’d soaped and rinsed himself, he stood up and toweled off. With the last dregs of his energy, Saimura dressed and shaved with the help of a small hand mirror. 

Standing by the fire, warming his hands, he contemplated the bed. It felt wrong to share it with Jahn. Saimura wanted nothing more than to crawl under those blankets and sleep for a hundred years, but if Jahn woke to find someone in his bed--someone who wasn’t Ravishan--he might come unhinged. Given that the man in question was the Rifter, Saimura didn’t want to chance it. But he couldn’t just leave Jahn alone either. If he did wake up, he might need help.

And yet…

Saimura sighed and went to the door. When he opened it and asked the kahlirash standing outside for a bedroll, the young man apologized and told him all the extra bedding had been sent down to the lower terraces and to sick rooms to accommodate the swell of people who now lived in the fortress. This bed had been kept especially for Jahn’s return.

“Thank you,” he told the boy. 

He shut the door again and leaned against it, staring at the bed and the comatose form resting under the covers. Saimura’s heart skipped a beat. He’d just have to pray that Jahn didn’t come to and incinerate him in his sleep. When he snuffed out all the lanterns in the room, the flickering glow from the fire cast warm shadows across the walls and sparse furniture. Saimura kept his new clothes on and slid into the side of the bed closest to the wall. He kept as much space between his and Jahn’s bodies as he could.

That distance felt like the great chasm in the north.

Saimura’s chest ached and tears beaded at the corners of his eyes. It was just the exhaustion, he knew. He hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since Fenn and when it had  _ been  _ Fenn, Saimura had longed for it to be Jahn. Now that the longtime subject of his desires rested mere inches away,  _ naked _ , Saimura wished he could be anywhere else. It felt wrong to be here in a place Jahn reserved for Ravishan and Ravishan alone. And though it broke Saimura’s heart, he knew he could never take the ushiri’s place.

He turned then, watching the light dance at the edges of Jahn’s profile. Saimura wished he could trace those strong lines, his fingers yearning to do so. Would it bring him back? If touch alone could have roused him, it would have worked by now. Saimura and Ji would have to try something else. His fingers curled into the warm sheets and he bit his lip. Surely one touch wouldn’t harm anything? But before he could think of the consequences in his sleepy state, he reached out and smoothed the back of his hand over Jahn’s cheek. Willing life into the skin against his skin.

“When you wake up, will you be disappointed it’s me?” Saimura whispered.

Jahn slept on and Saimura withdrew his hand. A small part of him wondered if a kiss might stir a reaction in the slumbering Rifter, but he retreated closer to the wall and drew his limbs close to his body. Despite the bone-tired fatigue drawing his eyes shut, Saimura watched his friend for hours, willing him to wake up.

Jahn didn’t stir.

And finally, after the fire had died down and daybreak had come and gone, Saimura slipped into a fitful sleep.

 

***

  
  


A warm breeze tossed the waves of Jahn's hair, bringing with it the soft scents of high summer. Saimura sat nearby carving script into finger bones, humming a southern tune. Ji slept, her head cushioned by Jahn's sunken belly. Another week had passed since returning to Vundomu and Saimura was beginning to lose hope that Jahn would ever wake. This was their last idea, resting the Rifter in the loamy earth near the bottom terrace of the fortress. Letting grass tickle his skin and gossamer dew dampen the clothing Wah’roa had provided. 

They'd done this for the last three days and every evening, they went inside with Jahn's unconscious body. Today would probably be no different, but just like every other morning, Saimura had been filled with such hope upon waking that  _ maybe today...maybe today… _ He glanced at Jahn's face and reached out to tuck a loose, curling strand of hair behind the shell of his ear. It was indulgent, but he let his fingers trail over the smooth cut of Jahn’s cheekbone before he pulled away. Jahn’s eyes moved beneath his lids. Saimura’s mouth parted.

Ji turned her head, eyeing him with an odd expression in her canine eyes. “You’d do well not to take liberties with him, Saimura.”

_ Oh, he knew. _

He said nothing and went back to carving his bones. The day lazed by. Ji wandered off and returned several times, but Saimura didn’t speak. It was enough for him to sit beside Jahn, working on his spells and forcing his wishes for his friend to wake into the ether around them. In the distance, heliotrope clouds burst with dying sunbeams. Saimura rested his hands in his lap and watched birds fly across the scenery, a sigh slipping past the seam of his lips. Time to take Jahn inside.

Packing up his supplies only took a moment. He slung his pack across his shoulder and around to his back. Ji was gone again, and Saimura took Jahn back up to the Temple of the Rifter alone. The Fai’daum people and kahlirash’im had grown accustomed to this daily ritual. Some still bowed in reverence for the Rifter. Others treated Jahn with frightened wariness. Saimura had gotten good at ignoring their reactions and merely smiled at them when they passed. 

Full twilight had come when Saimura returned Jahn to his windowless room and rested him gently on the bed. Samura made up the fire to chase away the chill of the stone walls, then unfurled the bedroll someone had finally located for him. He longed for the excuse to share Jahn’s bed again, but he knew it was best to sleep alone. And yet, as he lay there with only the crackling of the fire for company, Saimura couldn’t help the nagging suspicion that ate at his mind. 

_ What if it worked?  _

He craned his neck back to look over his shoulder at Jahn’s supine body on the bed. 

_ What if they had simply tried the wrong sort of touch?  _

Though it made Saimura feel utterly vile for even considering such a thing, every night his mind had whispered the same thought to him.

_ How would Ravishan bring Jahn back if  _ he  _ were here?  _

Each night, he had clamped down the inclination and buried it as selfish thinking. But there had been some reaction when Saimura had pressed his fingers to Jahn’s cheek today. He’d seen it. Throwing his caution to the wind, Saimura lifted his covers and crawled out of the bedroll. Before he could talk himself out of it, he stripped himself of his clothing and set about removing Jahn’s. If this were going to work, skin to skin contact would likely be essential. 

Saimura gently nudged Jahn’s body aside and slid into the bed next to him, bringing the covers back over them both. He rolled Jahn gently onto his side and pulled him close in an intimate embrace, tucking the top of Jahn’s head beneath his chin. Saimura’s right hand smoothed the hair over the back of Jahn’s head while his left caressed his back. Beneath the sheets, his legs mingled with Jahn’s and their chests touched. Something clicked in in Saimura’s heart at the press of their skin against one another’s. Something moved into the right place after having been off kilter for a long time.  _ This. This is what he had longed for with Fenn.  _ It was a sense of rightness. Like coming home.

“It’s time to wake up, Jahn.”

Saimura didn’t do anything more. Just held Jahn and hoped.

An hour or more passed by and Jahn was as utterly motionless as he’d been since they’d found him on the island. Saimura’s eyes drifted closed and he felt slumber waiting to claim him just moments away. 

Jahn’s arm twitched.

Saimura’s eyes flew open and he stilled, waiting to see if any other signs of life would follow the first.

Like a flower unfurling towards the sunlight, Jahn moved, his arms smoothing over Saimura’s naked skin until he returned the embrace. Saimura’s heart throbbed in his chest and he didn’t dare move. Jahn’s body glided against his and the once-strong arms tightened, hands splaying against Saimura’s lower back and shoulders. 

“Ravishan…”

Saimura panicked as Jahn suddenly flipped him onto his back and loomed above him, blue eyes open and glinting in the firelight.  _ What have I done?  _

“J-Jahn,” Saimura breathed.

Hands held him by the shoulders, pushing him into the feather mattress. Saimura flushed, but couldn’t look away as Jahn’s eyes closed once more and he fell. 

Warm lips pressed against his own with a reckless need. Jahn’s hands were everywhere--touching, soothing, gripping Saimura to himself. Saimura made a noise of protest in his throat, but Jahn was too far gone.

“Ravishan,” Jahn whispered on a moan.

Saimura tried to lift his arms to push Jahn away, but they were pinned beneath him.  _ What have I done?!  _ Fresh tears watered his eyes when Jahn pressed a tender kiss to his temple and the movements slowed down to delicate shifts of flesh against flesh. Saimura needed to stop this.  _ Had  _ to stop this before Jahn went too far. Before Saimura could ruin their friendship...before Jahn even woke up properly. But when Jahn reclaimed his lips, Saimura didn’t turn away. Tight hips ground against his own and a familiar, agonizing ache shot straight to Saimura’s groin. 

“No...Jahn, please…wake up,” he murmured against Jahn’s lips.

Callused hands came up, cradling Saimura’s face as Jahn lifted himself above Saimura to look him in the eyes. 

At first, there was nothing there but dazed love and lust. Saimura had never been looked at that way by anyone--not even Fenn. Jahn’s eyes roamed over his face, the expression of joy and relief slowly melting into one of confusion...then terror...then nothingness…

“Ravishan is dead,” Jahn said with a heartbreaking finality.

Saimura’s body trembled. “Yes, Jahn.”

“Saimura?”

The tears fell and Jahn’s eyes followed their path down Saimura’s face. “Yes, Jahn. It’s me.”

Jahn sat up, straddling Saimura’s waist. The blankets pooled around the back of Jahn’s hips, exposing them both to the cool air seeping in from the stone walls. Saimura raised himself onto his elbows and stared at Jahn, terrified of what happened next. 

“Where am I?” Jahn asked, voice dead and hoarse from disuse.

“In Vundomu. Ji and I found you weeks ago. We’ve been trying to wake you up,” Saimura said slowly, carefully.

Jahn wouldn’t look at Saimura, and he knew he didn’t deserve Jahn’s attention. Not after what he’d done. It had worked, against all odds, but Saimura knew he had almost taken advantage of Jahn’s confusion and he could barely live with himself. He wanted to wriggle out from under Jahn’s weight, but that would only draw attention to Saimura’s fading arousal, so he waited patiently for Jahn to move. 

“Jahn,” Saimura prompted, hoping it would remind him of their awkward position.

“Don’t call me that,” Jahn winced. “Don’t  _ ever  _ call me that.”

Guilt and sadness festered in Saimura’s belly, but he nodded. “Alright.”

Jahn looked down, apparently realizing for the first time that he was still on top of Saimura, their bodies touching in too intimate a manner. He shifted off Saimura slowly, backing down the bed. Saimura shot up when Jahn nearly fell backward off the mattress onto the cold floor. 

“Easy. You’re very weak,” Saimura cautioned.

“Don’t touch me!” Jahn’s voice broke over the words.

Saimura released him immediately and sat back onto his heels.

“You should have left me to die.” Jahn was crying, streams of tears rippling over his cheeks and down his neck. 

Saimura longed to reach out and wipe them away, but he respected Jahn’s wish to be untouched. “No.”  _ Jahn... _

Jahn scrubbed his forearm angrily over his eyes and cursed. Then he forced the palms of his hands over his face and sobbed. “I killed him--oh  _ god _ !--Ravishan...He’s dead and I killed him--” 

Jahn doubled over his knees and wept bitter, angry sorrow into the sheets. Saimura’s heart was breaking, but there was nothing he could do. Ji had warned him that if Jahn woke up, he would probably be like this for a long time. Saimura couldn’t even imagine the pain and horror of killing one’s lover. Perhaps it would have been kinder if Jahn had died in those ruins. 

“Oh god…oh god,” Jahn hyperventilated, shoulders heaving. 

Against Jahn’s wishes, Saimura reached over and dragged Jahn’s body against him, holding him tightly to his chest. “It’s over. It’s over now. Just breathe.”

Jahn fought him halfheartedly for several seconds before collapsing in on himself like a dying star. “He’s gone...I’ll never get him back…”

“Just breathe,” Saimura whispered. 

He had no idea what else to say. 

  
  


***

 

Jahn didn’t talk about what Saimura had done to wake him. He didn’t talk at all for nearly three days after his initial implosion of emotion about Ravishan. Saimura sat with him by the bedside, updating Jahn about what had happened in Vundomu in his absence. Rattling away, really. Just filling time. Ji came and went, simply observing Jahn without saying much. Saimura wondered at her behavior, but figured she just knew many things he didn’t. All the while, Jahn stared at the door as if he was hoping his lost love would walk through smiling at any second. 

Saimura’s voice grew gravelly with the talking, but he didn’t stop. 

Getting Jahn to eat was another challenge. He refused all the dishes the kahlirash’im brought to him and wouldn’t even touch it when Wah’roa got on his knees and begged his most holy lord to accept their offerings. Saimura took the trays from them and ate himself after they left the room. Tonight was no different. 

“You need to eat something, Jath’ibaye,” Saimura said, bringing a spoonful of porridge to his own lips. 

Jahn didn’t answer.

“At least get some water in you. You’re wasting away.”

Saimura held out a filled horn cup from the tray, but Jahn smacked it out of Saimura’s hands. The cup flew across the floor, spilling water all over the stones. 

“Stop. Just stop all of it,” Jahn hissed.

It was the first thing Saimura had heard out of him in days. 

He sighed, setting aside the tray, standing up, and retrieving the cup. Saimura returned to his seat and turned a long-suffering stare on Jahn. “You  _ will  _ eat, Jath’ibaye. You will drink. And you will get out of this bed. We need you.”

“No one needs me,” Jahn countered.

Saimura’s patience faltered. He scowled, “This isn’t you, Jahn!”

Finally, Jahn looked at him, blue eyes fierce. “I told you not to call me that.”

“Why, because it’s what Ravishan called you?” That was cruel, Saimura knew, but any reaction out of Jahn was better than the uncharacteristic self pity.

Jahn’s body stiffened and that same haunted look Saimura had seen days ago returned to his eyes. 

“I don’t know what happened out there, aside from what you’ve told me. Ji won’t say. I know it had to be terrible for you to react like this,” Saimura said. “But you’ve got to move on. He’s dead. You’re alive. You have people who need your help and you can have a purpose, if you’ll accept it.”

Jahn clenched the covers around his waist with trembling hands. “I can’t, Saimura.”

Saimura reached out, cupping Jahn’s downcast face. 

“Don’t,” Jahn whimpered.

“He’s gone, Jahn.”

There were no tears this time. Just a long, stuttering exhale of warm breath against the inside of Saimura’s wrist.  Jahn closed his eyes.

“Here. Eat,” Saimura said gently, lifting a spoonful of rice porridge from the bowl. 

To his surprise, Jahn opened his mouth mechanically and accepted the spoon. Not wishing to jinx this development, Saimura fed him in silence and Jahn finished the rest of the bowl. When he was done, Saimura refilled the horn cup with water from the washing pitcher and brought it over to him. Jahn drank it without protest.

They said nothing more to each other for the rest of the night. Saimura slept on his bedroll by the fire. He wished he could fall naturally into sleep, but it refused to come. He tried to remember better days. Days when Jahn had been healthy and well--when Ravishan had made Jahn so happy that Saimura couldn’t help but smile at their joy, despite the fact that he had longed for Jahn to be his own. A log broke in two in the hearth, crumbling onto the wood beneath it, sending sparks and ash into the air. 

“I killed him,” Jahn whispered into the silence. 

Saimura’s ribs felt too tight. “I know.”

 

***

 

“You’re doing well, Jath’ibaye,” Ji praised.

Jahn’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t contradict her. Saimura had removed his support several steps before and Jahn had walked the rest of the way down the hallway on his own. It was his first day out of bed and he was already moving almost normally again. Ji trotted beside Jahn, occasionally circling his legs. 

“Saimura says you’re eating regular meals now, too,” she continued.

“If you can call rice porridge three times a day ‘regular meals’,” Jahn grumbled.

Ji chuckled deep in her throat--a sound that came out more like a rumbling growl than laughter. “After eating nothing for so long, I would be surprised if you could stomach the coarse food you’re used to.”

Jahn placed a hand on the stone wall and leaned, his breath coming hard. He was healing quickly--far more quickly than he should, but that was what being the Rifter did for you, Saimura supposed. Given the proper nourishment and rest, Jahn would be back to normal within a few more days. Already, the lean lines of his body had filled out with muscle again and he no longer had deathly shadows beneath his sky-blue eyes. Despite the nightmares Saimura knew Jahn had, the evidence of them always disappeared by morning. 

“Are you ready to get to work?” Ji asked flatly.

Jahn pursed his lips and paused. “I’m not sure what I can do.”

“You’ve sworn yourself to the Fai-daum,” Ji reminded him. 

As if just remembering this fact, Jahn glanced down to the red tattoo on his naked chest. “I know.”

“I have a list, if you’re unsure where to start,” she added.

Despite himself, Jahn’s lips quirked in the barest hint of a smile.

Sensing that Jahn was more fatigued than he let on, Saimura made to help him walk back down the hallway to his room. When he extended his hands, Jahn shrugged him off.

“I’ve got it.” The voice wasn’t exactly cold, but Saimura felt stung anyway.

Saimura removed his hands and followed as Jahn ambled over the stones on increasingly sturdy legs.

Ji glanced between them and placed herself in Saimura’s path. He stopped walking. 

“What is it?” he asked his mother.

“Let him be. You’ve been with him almost nonstop since we found him. He needs time to sort through all the turmoil in his head.”

Saimura knew she was right, but the thought of Jahn dealing with his demons alone pricked his heart. But one fact pulsated its poisonous barbs into his soul at the implications in Ji’s words. 

_ He’s not yours. _

A cold draft ghosted down the corridor, chilling Saimura’s body even as his loneliness ate at his heart. 

“I’ll never be able to reach him, will I?” he said sadly.

Ji brushed against his leg. “Not as a lover, no.”

He nodded, resigned.

“I’m sorry, son.”

A stray tear rolled down his cheeks. He flicked it aside, angry at himself for getting so emotional over something he’d known and accepted long ago.

Ji bumped his thigh with her head and peered up at him with soulful eyes. 

“He’s not the right one for you, Saimura,” she said softly.

He nodded, knowing she was right. 

“There will be a great love in your life. Make no mistake,” Ji promised. “But I’m sorry you’re hurting this much now.”

Saimura couldn’t imagine any future in which he wouldn’t want Jahn as much as he did in this moment. As he watched Jahn’s back grow smaller around the curve of the hallway, Saimura vowed that it didn’t matter to him. He would be there for Jahn no matter what, in any way that he could. If it was a friend Jahn needed, Saimura would be the best friend. If it was a silent presence at his side, he could be that, too. 

Ravishan was never coming back. 

And Saimura knew, in that moment, that in a way neither was Jahn.

He stared after the man he’d loved for so long--the man who’d saved his life twice and given him a reason to live--and felt something quietly die in his chest. It was Jahn, Saimura realized. Jahn had died in those ruins months ago. And the man who’d come back to Vundomu was Jath’ibaye. A man Saimura didn’t really know.

Saimura watched him disappear completely and forced a smile. “I’m not,” he said.

“You’re not what?” Ji prompted.

He exhaled, feeling the knot in his chest loosen. “I’m not sorry.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
